


Summer Skin

by WhiskeyInATeaCup



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 10:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3377927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeyInATeaCup/pseuds/WhiskeyInATeaCup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boat mechanic and local townie Daryl Dixon knew he would always remember the day rich girl Beth Greene up at his marina on her daddy's broken down boat, but he had no way of knowing just how drastically she would change his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!!! *waves*
> 
> So this isn't my first foray into fan fiction, although it's been years, but this is my first time writing Bethyl fan fiction and I'm super nervous. The summary is terrible, and it's super AU but this one was just demanding to be written so… Here it is. I'll do my best to keep everyone as in character as possible. 
> 
> One note before you read the story, engines on speed boats are in the back and are under a giant, raisable "bed." So when someone talks about the boat's "bed," it's not an actual bed, it's the thing that covers the engine. 
> 
> Also, I'm on tumblr as heyhelloimawkward. Find me! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One

Daryl Dixon knew the minute he saw her that he would remember that moment for the rest of his life. It was early June and tourist season had just started to pick up.

A fifty-foot black, red and white speedboat sputtered up to the dock of Four Star, the tiny marina and trailer park where he lived and worked at. A white-haired man tossed Daryl a pile of boat ropes and immediately leapt to the dock to help Daryl secure the ropes around the cleats, the rubber bumpers squeaking against the side of the dock as the boat came to a stop.

It was not out of the ordinary to see giant boats in the small, but affluent seaside hamlet of Sunrise Beach, Georgia, the summertime playground for the rich and powerful from Savannah. 

What was out of the ordinary was for such a giant boat to stop at Four Star. Despite the name, the marina wasn’t exactly home to a lot of yachts, or any boat that wasn’t just a step above a tin can, and it was where most of Sunrise Beach’s townies lived. 

“She’s making quite a ruckus,” the white-haired man had offered in a think Savannah accent, before Daryl had gotten a chance to ask how the man had wound up at Four Star, and not at Sea Island Marina and Resort, the usual landing spot for sleek boats such as this one. “Think she might be sucking in water and the engines are grinding something awful. I don’t know what the problem is, but Dale just looked at her last week and said everything was fine.”

Dale was the go-to mechanic at Sea Island. He didn’t live in Four Star, he lived up in the hills among the millionaires and made sure everyone knew it. Daryl wasn’t sure how Dale kept his cushy job; the man was a flaming moron.

“I’ll take a look at her and see what’s going on,” Daryl grunted, wiping his grease-blackened hands on his semi-clean blue jeans.

And then she popped out of the cabin, all wind-blown blonde hair, long legs and sun-kissed cheeks, looking devastatingly sweet in a simple red sundress and big, designer sunglasses. Her lips were painted a faint red and her eyelashes were long and dark.

“Daddy, what’s going on?” she asked, raising her sunglasses and propping them atop her head.

Daryl felt his breath catch as her huge, impossibly blue eyes landed on him. He saw her give him a quick once over before taking in her surroundings. “Where are we?” Her nose wrinkled up in disdain.

Daryl glanced down at the ground, kicking at a splinter poking up from the dock as the white-haired man climbed back into the boat, punching at a button on the boat’s dash to raise the back bed of the yacht.

“The boat is making a noise, sweet pea. Didn’t think we’d make it to Dale,” the man squinted at the name patch on Daryl’s navy button down Four Star shirt. “Daryl here is going to take a look at her and get her fixed.” 

Daryl felt the tips of his ears turn red. “I’m gonna try an’ get her fixed,” he said as he climbed aboard the boat and ducked his head under the bed to check out the engines.

“Well how long is this going to take? I told Amy I would meet her and some other people out after dinner,” she whined. 

“Sweet pea, it’ll take as long as it’ll take. Why don’t you go back into the cabin and relax,” the white-haired man coddled. 

“But they’re expecting me in ten minutes!” The girl exclaimed, and although he couldn’t see her, Daryl was certain a foot stomp had accompanied the exclamation. “I still have to wash my face and change! What do I tell them? That I'm stuck at some suck-ass marina with a townie that's gonna 'try' to get the boat fixed?”

Daryl rolled his eyes as he poked around both engines. Thankfully the boat wasn’t taking in water and he couldn’t see any obvious damage, but the girl’s whining was doing some serious damage to his patience. 

She may have been beautiful, but he couldn’t stand whiners. 

In the end, all that had been wrong was a loose screw, which Daryl tightened up quickly. He told the white-haired man he was good to go and declined payment when it was offered.

“Didn’ do nothin’ really,” he mumbled. “Just tightened a loose screw.”

The white-haired man studied Daryl for a second before extending his hand towards him. Daryl reluctantly took it, shaking it twice before dropping his hand. 

The white-haired man studied him for a moment then glanced around, before sighing and patting Daryl on the shoulder. “Well, I do appreciate it, Daryl,” he said before stepping onto the boat and revving the engines. They turned over and purred, just like they were supposed to.

“Sweet pea, can you please untie the ropes?” He asked the blonde girl, who had slumped in the navigator seat.

She huffed and rolled her eyes, climbing out of the seat and going over to the side of the boat that was tied to the dock.

“Nah, I got it,” Daryl offered, his fingers going to the loop just as hers did. Their eyes met and despite her earlier whining, he felt his stomach backflip at being so close to her. She really was beautiful.

The girl watched as he untied the rope from the cleats and as he handed the loose end to her he caught sight of a pink scar on the inside of her left wrist.

He saw her noticing him noticing her scar and immediately yanked her hand away, letting the slackened rope fall to the floor and spinning on her heel, disappearing into the cabin again.

All Daryl could do was stare at the boat as it disappeared, nothing but blonde hair, long legs and an angry pink scar swimming in his head.

He found out from Carol Peletier, a fellow employee and the town gossip a week later that the white-haired man was Hershel Greene, one of the wealthiest men in Savannah. The blonde haired girl was Beth, she was eighteen years old, and the scar on her wrist was the result of a failed suicide attempt after her mother and brother were killed in a car crash four months ago.

Daryl didn’t see either Greene again for the rest of the summer.

He refused to admit to himself he was disappointed.

______________________

 

Beth Greene came bursting back into his life in early July the following summer. 

Daryl was just beginning to close for the evening when he saw a towing boat tugging the familiar black, red and white boat behind it, Hershel waving at him from behind the wheel. 

Beth was sitting in the navigator seat, a small smile spread across her pretty face.

Daryl hadn’t actively thought much about Hershel or Beth after his brief encounter, chalking it up to a one-time thing and moving on.

Every-once-in-a-while he would see big blue eyes or blonde hair and think of Beth. He would wonder if her scar was still that angry pink or if it had begun to fade. He would wonder if her whiny and bratty behavior had anything to do with that pink scar.

One night in January he had a dream so vivid about her- his hands in her hair, his mouth mashed against her mouth in a searing kiss, his hips moving against her hips desperate for relief- that once he had woken up he had had to remind himself he was in his room, in his trailer, in Sunrise Beach, and that Beth was in Savannah.

After that any time a glimmer of Beth Greene floated up in his memory he would immediately banish it from his brain. He had no right thinking about an eighteen-year-old girl in that way. So he stopped thinking about her all together.

But now, there she was, still smiling softly and looking directly at him as he helped secure the giant boat and unhook it from the towboat. 

Hershel stepped onto the deck and immediately clapped Daryl on the back. “We were hoping you’d still be around here,” Hershel sighed. “On the way back from lunch and she just up and died not two minutes from your marina. Been telling Dale that something hasn’t sounded right for weeks and he hasn’t been able to find anything.”

Daryl scratched at the back of his neck. “Well, I can always take a look at her again. I’m not an expert on boats like this,” he grumbled.

Hershel sighed in relief and hopped back on to the boat, raising the back bed. “We do appreciate it, Daryl,” the older man said.

Daryl stepped on to the boat and then realized that Beth was still staring at him.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, girl?” He asked, gruffly.

He watched as her cheeks tinged pink and she finally glanced away. “Nothing, I just… I remember you,” she stated, glancing at him. “I wasn’t very friendly, I don’t think. Last summer is kind of a blur.

Daryl wondered if her previous summer had been a blur because of that scar on her wrist, but he refrained from asking. Instead he just shrugged. 

“Most people aren’ very friendly towards me. Ain’ a big deal,” he mumbled, sticking his head under the back bed and immediately seeing that this time, the boat was sucking in water. 

He heard a shuffle and from his peripheral he could see her standing near him now. 

“Yeah, well, I’m not most people, and I’m usually not unfriendly. So, I’m sorry.”

He turned his head to squint at her, the sun behind her casting a halo around her.

It was then that he noticed the changes in her. Her blonde hair was up in a messy bun and her face was free of make-up. Instead of big, designer sunglasses she wore Ray-Bans. The sundress was gone and was replaced by a tank top and cut off jean shorts. She had an assortment of bracelets adorning her left wrist. Instead of disdain, a relaxed expression graced her face.

“S’nothin,” he grumbled then turned back to the engines. 

The boat rocked gently as Beth stepped onto the dock and he heard her tell Hershel she was going to run up to the little general store at the top of the dock for a Coke.

This time the problem was much more extensive than a loose screw. Daryl stepped off the boat and looked at Hershel. “One of the pumps is faulty. She’s sucking up water. Flooded one of the engines.”

Hershel sighed and nodded. “I was afraid of that.”

Daryl shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I can get her started and you can idle back to Sea Island on one engine, but the pump is going to have to be fixed and the other engine might have to be replaced. I would get Dale to look at her as soon as possible.”

“Can you fix it?” 

Daryl was taken aback by Hershel’s question.

“Uhh, yeah…” He muttered.

Hershel nodded again. “We won’t be going back to Dale. He’s looked at it three times and couldn’t find a problem. If you’ve got the time I would very much appreciate it if you fixed it, Daryl.”

Daryl’s eyebrows knit together slightly in confusion. He hadn’t done anything all that great the last time he had seen this boat. Tightened a screw. He wasn’t sure why Hershel Greene, who could pay a mechanic other than Dale that had experience with luxury boats, had such confidence in him.

“Uh, I got the time, but are ya sure you don’t want an expe-“

“You’ll do just fine.” Hershel interrupted. “And I insist on paying you for your time today, and for your future efforts.”

Daryl just ducked his head and nodded. As confused as he was about Hershel’s insistence on him working on the boat, he could use something to pass his days other than pumping gas and tinkering with pull-cord engines, and he sure could use the money.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

Over the next two weeks Hershel would show up at eleven every morning with the boat, Beth meeting him there in a shiny black F-250. The first few days Beth would come down and say hi before and she Hershel disappeared in the truck. 

But on the fourth day, Beth had told Hershel to go on ahead, she was going to stay and keep Daryl company. 

Hershel had just smiled and kissed her on the head before disappearing up the dock and driving off in the truck.

It was then that Daryl learned what a chatterbox Beth Greene actually was. She sat crossed-legged on the dock or in the navigator seat as he worked, and fired off questions at him. 

Did he grow up in Sunrise Beach?

Did his family live here?

Did he like being a boat mechanic?

How did be become a boat mechanic?

What did he do for fun?

What was his favorite color?

When her questions went unanswered she just began to talk at him, telling him about her life.

He was one hundred percent confused on why she wanted to hang around him at all.

But he found out Beth had a sister named Maggie, who was seven years older than her and lived in Atlanta. Maggie was a lawyer and dating a guy named Glenn for five years. Glenn kept proposing to Maggie and Maggie kept saying no because “Glenn couldn’t give her a legitimate reason to get married.”

Her favorite color was red because it could have so many meanings, and that was interesting to Beth. Red was rage, but it was also love and the color of the lipstick that she wore when she needed a confidence boost. Red was pain but it was also the color of poppies. Red was blood but it was also her favorite dress.

When she was in kindergarten she wrote a story about a blue bunny that lost its burrow and had to find his way back home. She won an award for it and a theater troupe came to her school and acted out her book in front of the entire student body. She had been “as mortified as a five year old can get.”

Her favorite song was “Both Sides Now” by Joni Mitchell.

She began bringing him lunch and home made chocolate chip cookies. 

He found himself looking forward to her daily visits. He begrudgingly admitted that they were becoming the highlight of his day. 

He began noticing the way her nose would crinkle when she laughed, the light dusting of freckles on her shoulders, the way her eyes would grow even wider when she was talking intensely about something.

He wanted to know everything about her. 

On her sixth visit particular she told him all about college.

She had just finished her freshman year at Brown. She thought she wanted to study music performance, because she loved to sing and play the guitar and piano, but now she was leaning more towards music therapy.

“I think I’ll get more fulfillment from using music to help people,” she said. “It’s so universal, you know? It’s healing. I love that when I’m sad there are songs I can listen to and I just know that the person that wrote them was hurting as badly as I hurt,” she paused abruptly, and Daryl glanced up at her. Her cheeks had gone red and she was picking at the shoelace of her black Chuck Taylors. 

“What’s a rich girl like you got to be sad about?” The minute he asked that question he wanted to grab the words from the air and stuff them back into his mouth. His hands stopped tinkering on the engine and he grimaced, before glancing at her. An image of that scar on her wrist covered by all those bracelets flashed in his memory.

Her head shot up and she looked at him with such a heartbroken expression on her face he wanted to recoil.

“Money doesn’t solve everything, Daryl,” she murmured so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.

She ducked her head and began to pick at her shoelaces again, an awkward silence settling over them that seemed to stretch on forever. 

“Blue,” he suddenly said, desperate to get that look off of her face.

She looked up at him again, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“Yesterday you asked me what my favorite color was,” he continued. “It’s blue.”

The smile she gave him was blinding. 

“Why blue?” She asked.

He shrugged and didn’t answer. He didn’t want her to know that blue was all he saw when she wasn’t around, because her eyes were blue and so were the strings of the bikini that peaked out from under her tank tops.

In the end, Daryl finished his work on Hershel’s boat three days ahead of schedule. 

“You’re like, done done?” Beth questioned, disappointment laced in her voice, her eyes meeting his.

Daryl just nodded and ignored the way the sad look in her blue gaze made his gut twist. 

“Oh,” was all she replied with, before turning and heading up to the little store.

Hershel arrived in his truck a few minutes later, smiling widely as Daryl fired up the engines and showed Hershel the repairs he had made and the parts he had replaced.

Hershel grinned and clapped Daryl on the back, before handing him a very large check.

“No arguing. You earned every bit of that, Daryl,” Hershel said. “And you got Bethy out of the house. So thank you.”

Hershel didn’t elaborate, just took his spot behind the steering wheel and flipping on some switches. “We’ll be getting gas from you from now on. Our house isn’t but a five minute ride from here.”

Daryl nodded and climbed out of the boat. “Thank you, sir.”

“Daryl, call me Hershel.” 

Daryl felt his ears turn red. “Alright, sir.”

Hershel chuckled. “You tell Beth I took this lady out for a ride and to just take the truck back to the house.”

Daryl nodded and watched as Hershel idled out of the marina.

Beth didn’t come back from the little store.

Daryl didn’t see her for the rest of the summer.

He thought about her every day until she showed up at his marina in a red bikini the next summer on a boat that wasn’t her dad’s.

The driver of said boat certainly wasn’t Hershel either, and Beth was wrapped up in that driver’s arms.

And Daryl saw red.

__________________________

**Author's Note:**

> So, if this seems vague, that’s intentional cause it’s from Daryl’s point of view. He’s not always the most observant guy when it comes to the good intentions and good feelings of others.
> 
> Next chapter will be from Beth’s perspective, you’ll see why she behaved the way she did when Daryl first met her, why she was so different that second summer, and what would possess her to bring another dude to the marina Daryl worked at this current summer. It will also be more detailed because unlike Daryl, Beth is in touch with what she feels and knows she’s feeling it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know… Should you feel so inclined. I’m very nervous about not only writing fan fiction again, but about writing Beth and Daryl in such a different setting.


End file.
